Brooding
by Lerasai
Summary: Dust: A child Pietro and his futile struggles against his father's hold on him. Sapphire Lights: Pietro wonders about power and others' view on it and him. Tears Too Late: Wanda lets her anger gain control over her and faces the consequences.
1. Dust

Disclaimer; On Saturn X-Men: Evolution own YOU. :) Welcome to my home planet. Are I making of the sense?  
No?  
Good, then the CIA isnt yet onto my plan...

**/Dust/**

* * *

"In visions of the dark night I have dreamed of joy departed-  
But a waking dream of life and light Hath left me broken-hearted"  
_A Dream Fiction_ by Edgar A. Poe

* * *

Pietro closed his pale blue eyes, trying to block out the violent sun that insisted upon beating down upon him. 

Trying in vain, for the world was a burning brightness and his feet glued to the concrete floor.

He couldnt move, he couldnt scream, suddenly an acid rain was pouring, burning, slowly eating away at him to the bone.

He wanted to hiss in pain as he felt a vise-like grip upon his shoudler, seemingly to comfort, but more to hold in place the sun's captive.

He wanted to run.

He wanted to scream.

He wanted to throw himself to the ground and pound his fists until his hands turned into red fleshy paste.

"Bring her back to me! BRING HER BACK!"

He wanted to shout, until his throat was raw and bleeding.

His tears salty and stinging.

Held back by the sun, whom's vision was all that mattered.

Whom's vision is all that matters.

Whom's vision he will succeed.

One of the sun's many puppets he will become.

His emotions do not matter.

His wants and needs do not matter.

His sister does...not matter.

All that doesnt fit in the sun's makeshift vision will struggle.

Will become dust and scatter.

She screams for him to help her, to save her, not to abandon her.

Dust.

Tears threaten to drown him, the sun threatens to burn him in it's oppressive judgement.

His tears are invisible dust.

The first chance I get.

He makes himself a promise.

The first chance I get, I will run.

And the sun can Eat. My. Dust.

* * *

A/N: A worthless and short one-shot I felt like writing. I'm not going to give you any type of long explanation for everything I haven't put bluntly. I try to give the readers a bit more credit than that. If your a Pietro fan your bound to figure it out on your own. But, just to get the record straight and so none of you earthlings with your twisted twisted minds get the oh-so-very wrong idea; this is in no way implied twincest, implied ericpietro rape/slash, or whatever sick concepts you people can think of. This might sound weird to the sane lot of you but you'd be surprised (and not just _mildly_ disturbed) at what some people can come up with to replace the plot holes that are generally left in a one-shot fic.

**Flame all you want. Saturanians aren't flamable. :P Hahaha.  
Stick that in your proverbial pipe and figuratively smoke it.**


	2. Sapphire Lights

A/N: This didnt turn out verywell in my opinion. But, I like it, and therefore I would like to share it. Sorry if there are a few mistakes, FFDOTNET IS RESPONSBLE! Its a conspiracy, maaaaaan. Their tryin' to steal meh spaces! They're in league with the CIA in their evil plot to silence us aliens.

"Sapphire Lights"

* * *

My father has taught me many things in life. 

One lesson I would never forget, no matter how much I want to refuse to believe it, is that there is no such thing as Innocence.

Nothing is sacred.

Nothing is left untainted in this world of flaws.

In many a lecture my father was prone to giving he states these simple facts. Never failing to add that when he was in control and _homo superior _the dominant species, only then would the world would truely be perfect.

But my father has also taught me, indirectly or no, that there is no such thing as perfection.

I know, because no matter how my father tries to attain it, both through others and himself, he ends up returning from each failure more hardened and devoid of conscience than ever before.

Ironicly, it is this lust for perfection that is ultimately the major weakness of man. It is this lust for perfection that is the doom of man.

They do not learn from others' past mistakes because they delude themselves into thinking that they are different than those before them.

When in reality everything is the same.

Why must we face these mistakes daily?

Why must those who have nothing to do with this quest for perfection get caught in the crossfire?

I have dug myself deeper and deeper into this hole, from the minute I was born I was in the thick of it.

Caught in the intricate weaves so deep that I can hardly see the surface of the world.

Trapped in the middle of this suffocating fog. This painfully clear and harsh reality.

My screams are muffled by the sound of my father's demanding voice, and everyday this malicous grin that is not mine is placed upon my face.

No one ever looks past that look to see the pleading in my eyes.

A message spelled in sapphire lights.

S-O-M-E-BO-D-Y-S-A-V-E-M-E.

* * *

A/N: Yeah...Sucked didnt it? Well...whatever. I hope to improve over time. ; 


	3. Tears Too Late

A/N: Yeah... this one is longer than the other two, and considerabley weirder, I guess. This is what happens when you only get five hours sleep, drink tea and coca-cola, and obsess over Peitro all day. The caffeine makes me want to be angsty. O.o; Of the oddness, ne? Whatever. Need more tea. Enjoy the fanfiction!

* * *

Pietro's eyes met those of his sister's. His a sad sapphire, hers an angry red.

She glared at him, her beautiful features snarling, her white teeth bared like an avenging wolf, her hands, the same ones that had held a butterfly so delicately and gentle, so many years ago, clenched into dangerous fists glowing with hex.

Her eyes...

Filled with something, burning...

Hatred.

So much Hatred.

Pietro was tired of it...

So goddamn tired..

Of always being alone...

Hated.

Always being the face of everyones' frustrations.

The target of their anger.

Maybe he brought it upon himself.

Maybe he was always meant to be this alone.

Maybe the only reason he lived was to..

Was to...

' _Would it truely make you happy.. to kill me, sister?"_

_' Would it make you free from this hatred and anger that burns inside of you...? Slowly deteriorating the sister that I love.. that loved me. My twin. My heart.'_

_' If it would truely make it worth it.. If it would truely free you...'_

Rain poured from the skies, and lightning strick violently in the background, as if the gods were egging her on.

Pietro felt as if he was trying to walk underwater, everything going so slowly, yet nothing was ever more clear. Never before had everything seemed so painfully real. So achingly true. The truth in her eyes, that you have to face it. The truth in the skies, and the water attacking his vision if he looked up.

She was only a foot away from him, and he with no energy left to run.

To do what he walways did when things began to seem real to him.When things started to matter to him. When his indifference began to slowly fade, left with nothing but this frightened child, this infuriating weakness.

"Wanda.."

Her eyes were like poisin cutting into his soul and slowly eating away at his internal organs. A sick feeling formed in the pit of his sotmache and his throat felt raw and hoarse. But his eyes were clearer than the had been in a decade, he had been running for so long and things were begining to catch up with him.

They always did... in the End..

"Please Wanda..."

The rain.. nowhere to run...

Suffocated in her anger..

In her bitterness...

"Please just..."

He met her in the eyes and she was too blinded by rage to see the sincerity in them. At this last moment to see the regret in them. Too blinded by her hatred for him, that was only a substitute for the hatred she had for their father. The hatred she had for the world.

She directed it all on him, this maddening fury.

This mad fury...

XXXXXXX

Blood.

The smell of blood was unmistakeable to his inhanced senses, and Logan would never forget this scent.

Of blood.

Of terror.

Of anger and fear so strong that his adamantium claws ached with memory of a time when these things were as constant all around him as was cabon-dioxide.

He wasnt sure if anyone, excluding of course, Chuck, noticed that he had left the mansion. His odd behaviors had slowly become the norm even among the New Mutants.

He wasnt sure where he was going, but let his instincts lead him, and damn it felt good.

It always did when he let this other side of his take the reins, even if it was only for small period of time. As long he was still in control, he could let himself enjoy the experience.

Freedom.

But, he reminded himself, tonight he had an objective.

He wasnt at all sure what in Hell that objective _was _but it was nonetheless there, and calling him.

Luring him.

The last thing he expected was this.

He had found himself at what looked like it had once been a house, but had ripped apart, hit by a tornadoe twice over, and now all that was left was slightly burnt ruins.

He saw a slightly familiar shape in the middle of it, and he could hear... hear her sobbing.

Logan slowly approached Wanda Maximoff.

Her clothes were torn in places, and her makeup smeared beyond recognition. Her hair was wet with the rain that had been so steadily pouring, only a moment ago.

But her eyes.

Her eyes were red and puffy, and still tears were falling from the dark blue pools. And for once, they did not look angry, only...

Haunted.

It was only then Logan saw QuickSilver.

The boy's head was in his sister's lap, his stark white hair, which he had always prided himself in styling ever so carefully, was eskew and high-lighted in blood.

His pale skin an unnatural grey.

His eyes open and unseeing.

Pietro Maximoff was dead.

The Scarlet Witch didnt look away from her twin, Logan's prescence seemed not to have registered to her, and even when Wolverine put his hand on her shoulder she did not respond.

She was still sobbing, her proud shoulders uncharacteristically sagged, her breathing hitched, hiccuping.

So fragile.

Finally she looked at him.

And in a raw whisper, an ashamed breath, she said..

"I killed him."

Logan was shocked. He had known that the twins didnt like eachother, hated even. But, to think that she would...

Another sob. "I dont get it.. I just dont understand... It do-doesnt make sense anymore. None of it."

XXXXXX

_He...he...'_

_' Why...?'_

_' Why doesnt it feel like I thought it would..?'_

_' He deserved it, then, why am I crying? Why doesnt it make sense! '_

_' Why did he... did he... tell me to kill him...?'_

_' That doesnt make any sense. He's Pietro..that cocky sonofabitch. Didnt care about me... not about anyone but himself... that traitorous bastard...'_

Then why did it hurt so much?

Why did she feel like...

A part of her was missing.

Like someone had cut off a leg or an arm..

A part of her.

It made Wanda so angry.

_' Why is it, even in death, Pietro denies me my vengence! Why does he haunt me still! HE'S DEAD! HESDEADHESDEADHESDEADHESDEADHESDEAD!'_

**WHY DOES IT FEEL SO WRONG?**

**WHY DOESNT IT MAKE SENSE ANYMORE?**

Then...

A part of her began to realize..

_"Please, just kill me.." _

Pietro... he...

_Blood, on her fingertips, Pietro looking up at her, his eyes dimming, that grin finally wiped off his hateful face. The face that looked so much like their father's. _

_She laughed. _

_She knew how insane she sounded, but at that moment she didnt care, she laughed. Grinning madly she laughed herself to tears, as he lay dying in front of her. _

_That look... that stupid look.. never leaving from his face. _

_He coughed once. And the mere helplessness of her "dear" brother sent her into hysterics once more. _

_He said something to her.._

_So quiet.._

_She wouldnt have heard over her own laughter, like the thunder that echoed above her, so quietly... he said..._

**I love you, sister..**

* * *

A/N: As you can see, all of my endings suck major penguin feet. o.o; If there are any spelling errors or whatever, blame it on me typing waaaaay too fast, as I tend to do when I get into a story. Most the time I dont even know what the bejesus I'm typing. Just kinda.. go with the flow, y'know? Whatever... I'm tired of trying to explain stuff I dont claim to understand to people. ; Be kind and review okay?

I apoligze as every Pietro-fan should for killing poor Pie-chan. (sobs in front of Pietro-shrine) PLEASE FORGIVE ME O' LORD OF ALL THAT IS SUGARY AND HYPER-GOODNESS! I'll make it up to you, I swear! With maybe a nice romance or something. O.O; Come to think of it, I might just try that next. Never written anything romantic before. Hmm... were to begin... Be looking out for more fics by me, persons! Remember, DONT BE A SPONGE! (or a stranger, strangers are scary...)

Be happy.

Dont worry.

Be happy, dont worry.

Be HIPPIE! Erm... I mean HAPPY!

OR ELSE!

...YOU GET NO COOKIE!


End file.
